Devoid of Pity
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Cowering in the shadow of fear,
you count every sorrow, tear by tear.
And surrender to life's ugly side,
unwittingly letting evil slide.
Bullets rip through this fabric of lies,
and somewhere, somehow, somebody dies.
For drugs and guns, paint the hood in blood,
stains of youth, lying dead in the mud.
With curtains drawn completely tight,
streets are left to the horrors of night.
And doors get locked with deadbolts in place,
while pride vanishes without a trace.
Needles and condoms litter the park,
where crack whores and pimps stakeout the dark.
And children live under house arrest,
afraid of monsters out to molest.
Taking a life's a juvenile thrill,
unafraid of the law, youngsters kill.
And death runs rampant in Sin City,
where life's cheap and devoid of pity.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2017
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